


Talk it Out

by sekiharatae



Series: Found Quote Prompts [1]
Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII Remake (Video Game 2020)
Genre: F/M, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:48:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28378725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sekiharatae/pseuds/sekiharatae
Summary: Tifa really,reallylikes Cloud's voice.
Relationships: Tifa Lockhart/Cloud Strife
Series: Found Quote Prompts [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2078502
Comments: 16
Kudos: 107





	Talk it Out

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know what I'm doing. *hides*

Tifa loved Cloud’s voice. It wasn’t even, necessarily, the _words_ so much as the _sound_. The timbre, pitch, and tone. 

No doubt that was partly due to how infrequently he used it. He wasn’t one to engage in small talk, taciturn even with those he knew well. He spoke when he had something to say, period. Which made it all the more powerful when he did speak. 

Then there was the specific sort of gentleness which crept into his voice whenever he addressed _her_. Where he was brusque with everyone else, he was... softer, with her. It made her stomach flutter with all that it implied, her skin more sensitive when he dropped into the low almost-whisper he seemed to favor when they were alone.

When he and Barret argued, his voice would turn firm and implacable, confidence dripping from every syllable, and that’s when she loved it most. Her private, dirty little secret was how much she liked to imagine Cloud speaking to _her_ like that. Not angry or dismissive, but... taking control and whispering naughty things, sexy things, in a tone that denied any refusal. In only the few days since their reacquaintance, it had become a near nightly fantasy.

She was so far gone that, now, it was practically a trigger. So much so, it was a wonder he hadn’t noticed her reaction. Her newfound tendency to shiver, body arching and twisting on its own, forcing her to stretch in the middle of conversations as a cover. Or the way her pulse would speed up, her breath catching as he spoke.

Jessie, on the other hand, had at least picked up on her attraction, teasing her in a whisper about needing new panties. Luckily—thank Odin for small favors—the other woman hadn’t elected to tease her while Cloud was actually present. Yet. But she had warned Tifa that she’d make a move on him herself, if Tifa didn’t.

With a call of goodnight, Barret headed out with Marlene on his shoulder, leaving Tifa alone with Cloud as she closed up. “You can go home,” she said over her shoulder, as she finished sweeping the floor. “You don’t have to wait for me.”

“You sure you don’t need anything?”

He and Barret had argued for almost half an hour regarding his fee for the next AVALANCHE job. After listening to his calm, demanding utterances, Tifa was thoroughly wound up, and her throat tightened against the urge to whimper or moan in response to his deep, slightly husky voice asking if she _needed_ him. “I’m sure. I’ll be headed home in a few minutes myself.” Pretending to be busy wiping the bar down one last time, she waited until she heard the door click shut before slumping against the counter. 

“You’re going to kill me, Cloud,” she murmured under her breath. Between his looks and his attentiveness and _that voice_... It made her wish she could be a little less reticent, a little more open. Instead, she was too shy to act on her feelings. “Damn it, but Jessie’s right, Cloud. I need new panties after I talk to you.” 

Lifting the heavy mass of her hair off her neck and fanning herself with the other hand, she froze when she heard the distinctive sound of the deadbolt turning on the bar’s main door. As her heartbeat sped up, Tifa berated herself for assuming he’d left. Of course he hadn’t; not when he was so solicitous with her, not when she’d said she’d only be another minute. Turning reluctantly, she found Cloud leaning against the solid panel, arms folded in front of him.

“You’ve been keeping secrets from me, Tifa.” Voice smooth as velvet, with just a hint of rebuke in his tone, the words prompted an involuntary tremor, her back arching. Tilting his head, that too observant gaze assessed her, piecing together her reactions and words, coming to a conclusion that had the mako in his eyes flaring a bright, vivid green.

In seconds, it felt like he knew everything going on in her head. Flushed and suddenly hot all over, Tifa swallowed, wrapping her arms around herself as she looked away, unable to meet his gaze. “Cloud... I...” 

Pacing slowly across the space that separated them, he braced his hands on the bar on either side of her, leaning in until his breath teased the shell of her left ear. “Do you like my voice, Tifa? Does the sound of it make you wet? Are you worked up, aching and empty, right now?” 

Low and heated, his whisper had her catching her breath, the needy pulse between her legs intensifying. 

“Tell me.” He nuzzled her throat, his lips and nose their only points of contact. “When you’re needy and wanting, what do you do? Do you imagine me talking you through it? Whispering how beautiful you are, how much I want you?” An open-mouthed kiss, the soft swirl of his tongue in the crook where neck met shoulder, made her shiver. “When you fantasize, am I demanding? am I sweet?”

Shaking her head, she fought to find her voice, finally managing a faint whisper: “Both.” 

Mouth still pressed to her throat, he smiled. “What else do you imagine? Am I possessive?” Dropping kisses between questions, he worked his way up to her ear, grazed the tender spot behind it with his teeth. “Do I tell you you’re mine? That your pussy is mine, moist and hot and aching for me and me alone?” 

Couched in that same calm, controlled tone she was so fixated on, his questions provoked another full-body shudder. In her fantasies he’d never been quite so raw or so blunt. 

So effective.

“Tell me, Tifa. What do I say? Do I promise to take you? Fill you?” 

Core clenching, she was unable to stop a small, needy whimper from escaping. Reaching out, slim fingers found purchase in the worn knit of his shirt, around the thick leather covering his stomach, and clung. 

Cloud wasn’t finished, his voice in her ear sultry and relentless. “When you touch yourself, do you pretend it’s me? My fingers between your legs, circling your clit?” 

The soft rumble of his voice vibrated through her, somehow centered right _there_ , and she closed her eyes as her hips rolled, taking up a rhythm of their own accord. She was surrounded by his solid presence, the heat from his body, his unique masculine scent of mako, leather, and steel, and yet he still hadn’t touched her. Holding his hands and his body separate, if only by inches, even as his knee kept her legs open, preventing her thighs from rubbing or clenching together in search of relief. “Cloud!”

“Or do you imagine it’s my mouth there, soft and warm and gently sucking? Do you like my tongue against your clit?”

She’d never imagined anything of the sort, but as soon as he said it she _wanted_ it. Needed it. Moaning, she fisted her hands tighter against the need to touch herself. 

“Do I take you hard and fast, Tifa? Is that how you imagine it? My cock filling you, thrusting deep inside to soothe an ache you can’t reach?”

_Oh, please. Please._ “Yes!” 

“Or do I make you wait for it? Taking you up to the edge and stopping, easing off only to do it again and again before finally pushing you over?”

The thought alone was unbearable. “No!”

He chuckled, straightening and pulling back just enough to see her face. “Are you sure?” His lips brushed hers, the kiss too soft, too quick to satisfy. “I don’t love you for hours, spoiling you with pleasure?”

Tifa opened eyes glassy with arousal, her irises thin bands of deep crimson around pupils blown wide. Her body was touchpaper, tinder ready to combust, and his voice the spark that would set her alight. “Please.” 

Kissing her a second time, he let his lips skim across her cheek to her ear. “Are you close, Tifa?” Her response was a keening sob of his name. “Then let go. _Come for me._ ”

The soft yet implacable command turned her inside out. Whimpering, gasping, she did as he said, the rush of pleasure small but all the more intense for the lack of touch. Collapsing bonelessly against him when her legs gave out, she sighed as–finally–he folded her in his arms. 

“We’re not finished, Tifa,” he murmured, hands rubbing soothing circles over her back. “As soon as you can walk, we’re finding the nearest available bed so I can do all of the things you’ve fantasized, plus some you apparently haven’t.” Hand curving around her throat, his thumb tilted her chin until their eyes met, his hooded, hers wide. “It’s going to be a long night.” 

**Author's Note:**

> I found a handful of quotes online that I thought would make cute, possibly crackish, cloti fics. Then I ran a poll on my twitter account, and this is the one that got the most votes.
> 
> Somehow, however, when I went to write it, it turned into a serious smutfic, rather than a silly one. And it's been kicking my butt for over a week. Hopefully this works, at least a little.
> 
> Quote: I need new panties after I talk to you.


End file.
